My Moon: An Enjolras Love Story
by Javert's Hat
Summary: WARNING: LEMON IN LATER CHAPTERS! "You cannot pretend any longer, Enjolras, that your priorities have not changed. It is clear that you are just as devoted to our country as you always have been, but now you have a reason to make it back alive. And she is that reason." Enjolras/OC, or Enjolras/Reader if you prefer to self-insert. Possible Marius/Éponine.
1. a moment of breathless delight

_(NOTE: In the actual book and musical, a little known fact is that Enjolras, Combeferre, etc. are their last names. In this version, Enjolras, Combeferre, Grantaire, etc. are their first names for simplicity.)_

SÉRAPHINE POV

On April 2, 1832, I arose from my bed at around ten in the morning. This was a few hours later than was my habit. Most mornings I would rise with the sun, letting the rays of light enter through my window and stir me from my slumber. Since I lived alone, I had no one to awake me and had to rely only on the sun's beams to wake me up. As I peered at the grandfather clock across from my bed, I noticed that I had only an hour before I would be meeting my best friend in the town square. I had to hurry up to get ready or else I would be late.

My name is Séraphine Beaulieu. I am nineteen years old, a middle-class woman living in Paris, France. My father always describes me as his "little firecracker," where my mother instead thinks of me as having my "head in the sky." I do not disagree with either of them, but I prefer to think that there is more to me than impulsive passion and fantastical daydreams. Even so, I have not yet figured out who I truly am or what I truly desire. This is probably a result of my constant loneliness; were I blessed with more frequent company, I believe I would be more aware of the possibilities that await me and thus more aware of the woman I have the potential to become.

Although I have acquaintances and a best friend who goes by the name of Éponine, I still find myself longing for more people to talk to and befriend. My parents do not live with me but instead live in a cozy cottage about twenty miles north of where I live. I have only been there twice. Because of an event that happened in my youth, an event which I will describe in more detail at a later time, my parents now have to live separately from me. They still, however, supply me with what I need. They send me food, clothing, and enough money to provide for my basic necessities. In order to have some extra money to spend on the occasional nicety here and there, perhaps a book or a new frock, I have been taking up odd jobs for various people in my neighborhood. I often tend to their houses, watch their children, and sew for them. Sometimes the people I help out can be rather shady, but the company of their children and the surplus money make it worth it.

Because I did not have to work for anyone on April 2, I was meeting Éponine at eleven in the morning. I hurriedly washed myself. Then I put on one of my long red frocks and covered myself with a simple white cloak, knowing I was at risk of being tardy for my meeting with my dear friend. After quickly running a comb through my long brown locks, I stepped into my modestly-heeled shoes and took a pastry tart from my kitchen to give to Éponine. I only had a few minutes, so I scurried out the door and walked as quickly as I could without running.

I had not been in the center of the square for more than three seconds when I heard a voice yelling, "Séraphine!"

Turning around, I noticed Éponine running towards me. She had her signature devil-may-care smile plastered across her face. I could never help but admire the girl - she had been through so much, yet she still managed to keep herself happy.

"Hello, Éponine!" I greeted in return, pulling her into a hug and handing her the pastry tart after we broke apart.

"This is wonderful, Séraphine; thanks!" she said as she hungrily ate what was probably the nicest thing she would eat all week. "You look wonderful, as usual."

I felt guilty because, although I knew she meant it as a genuine compliment, she could not hide her envy. I had been blessed with enough surplus money to buy myself a few nice garments, but she consistently arrived to our meetings in rags. Despite my guilt, I appreciated Éponine tremendously for her friendship and selflessness. Were I in her position, I would probably find it very hard not to resent someone who had what I have. For that, I considered Éponine the greatest person in my life, someone whom I counted on and looked to for counseling. She was the one person I could feel at home with, the person who made me feel like I had a family after my parents were separated from me.

"Thank you," I acknowledged. "So, did you have anything in mind to do today?"

"Well, I was thinking maybe today I would introduce you to Marius."

"Oh!" I teased gently. "The famous Marius Pontmercy that I've heard so much about!"

Éponine blushed a bright red and said, "He should be coming out for lunch in the square with the rest of the schoolboys in a half hour or so. Maybe I could take you to them? And maybe he'll let us eat with them? I think he'd want to meet you, Séraphine; God knows I talk about you enough to him."

I giggled lightly, feeling flattered that Éponine talked about me to her crush of so many years. "That sounds perfect. Now tell me, how come I haven't met Marius before?"

"Oh. Well, I guess the times have never matched up. You spend some days tending to people's children as their parents go out for lunch dates, and the boys have been spending their nights working on some secret plan. So it's hard to catch them at night, too."

"I see. In any event, I'm very excited to meet him! Anyone who can steal your heart as much as he has must be a pretty great person."

"He is, he really is!" Éponine gushed. "You'll love him, really. Just don't fall _in_ love with him!"

Chuckling, I replied, "I could never do that to you."

With that, we started walking towards the males' school. Every time I passed it I felt my stomach dance and my heart pound. There was very little I wanted more than knowledge. To be able to go to that school would be a dream come true for me. Despite the stigma, I already had many books in my house to satisfy my craving for reading. But getting first-hand experience in a school with a teacher and other students sounded too good to be true. It was one of the many things I disliked about how France was governed: females, I believed, should be able to attend schools.

Together we walked and talked about everything and nothing, which was one of the things I loved about my best friend. We could start off talking about something serious, like the state of the country, and diverge into something lighthearted like future adventures and men.

Seeming to be thinking of men herself, Éponine pressed, "So, Séraphine. There's really _no one_ that you have feelings for?"

I shook my head no. "Most of the men I've met are lovely people, but I just don't _feel_ anything with them. I'm sure you understand, what with Marius. Pardon me if this sounds cliché, but I have a very idealistic view of love. The most important thing to me is chemistry."

"I could have said the same thing myself," Éponine smiled as we approached the front of the school building. "Here, why don't we wait out here? The boys should be coming out any minute."

I nodded, standing at the side of the building with her and feeling my heart swell in anticipation. I wanted so badly to meet Marius, and I wanted even more for Éponine to be happy. She deserved so much more than she had gotten out of life, and I knew Marius would be the answer to her prayers.

As that final thought left my head, I heard the sudden slam of a door bursting open, followed by the chatter of dozens of young men around my age. This was it! I would finally get to meet Marius and the rest of the schoolboys that Éponine spoke so fondly of. I loved meeting new people; I always spent my free time trying to make new friends. This was a perfect opportunity.

"Hey, Marius!" Éponine exclaimed, running up to her friend.

Marius appeared both surprised and happy to see her. "'Ponine! What brings you here?"

"I wanted you to meet Séraphine! She finally had the chance to come meet you."

Marius looked my way, and I flashed him my friendliest and most compassionate smile. He bowed to me, probably noticing my attire, and kissed my hand gently.

"Hello, Mademoiselle. I have heard many things about you. All good things!" he added with a chuckle.

"I can say the same for you!" I grinned, peering up at the other boys around him. Feeling awkward at having not introduced myself to the others, I curtsied and said, "My name is Séraphine. You are friends of Marius, I presume?"

"Indeed, we are," said one man with dark blond hair and a twinkle in his eyes. "My name is Combeferre."

"A pleasure," I replied warmly.

"I was wondering if it was all right if Séraphine and I joined you for lunch today?" Éponine asked, particularly looking at Marius.

"It would be our pleasure," Marius responded, leading us all off to the center of the square to get our lunch.

"Hey, Grantaire," Combeferre asked a man with dark hair and a mischievous smile, "where's Enjolras?"

"How the hell should I know?" the man called Grantaire replied as we walked.

"I'm just asking; he is your best friend, after all. Perhaps we should wait for him."

"Wait for him?!" Grantaire cackled. "Do you think that brandy out there is gonna wait for _us_? Let's _go_!"

As if on cue, a smooth voice responded from behind, "A lovely thing to say about a friend, Grantaire."

We all turned around towards the door of the schoolhouse. The man who had spoken stood confidently at the door, a smirk dancing on his lips. He oozed charisma and spirit, standing with the posture of a man who knew what he wanted and how to attain it. His eyes were a bright blue, the exact same shade as the blue on the French flag, and his hair was a wild, stray mat of golden-blond curls. His arms were folded across his red vest. Never in my life had I seen someone who so strongly demanded the attention of everyone around him, who so strongly captured everyone's gazes just with a single word and a stance like that of a solider.

That was the first thing I noticed about this man. The second thing I noticed was that, because of his charm and character, I wanted to get to know him. I found myself silently begging for him to turn his attention from Grantaire to me, begging for him to drag his ocean-blue eyes over so they were looking into my brown ones. I wanted him to notice me, to join us for lunch, to tell me his name and ask me for mine.

He was such a magnetic man that I had to know more about him.


	2. i do not even know your name

SÉRAPHINE POV

"There he is!" Grantaire exclaimed as he went over to the blond man, wrapped his arm around him, and rustled his tousled hair. "Now let's get going, eh?"

The men continued their loud chatter and picked up the pace, wanting very badly to get something to eat. A few of the men introduced themselves to me as we journeyed: a kind and loving brunette named Courfeyrac; a gentle, sweet man called Joly; and a dreamy-eyed lad named Jean Prouvaire. All three of them were remarkably nice, and so far I had completely understood why Éponine enjoyed their company so much. They were gentlemanly and personable, but I had not the slightest doubt that they were capable of tremendous things. I very much wanted to spend more time with them and become close friends with them.

A few moments later, we arrived at a small, inexpensive eatery I had never seen before, let alone been into. It was cozy and intimate, with only one floor and about ten tables. There was no heavy lighting, but I did not mind because the rest of the environment was pleasant and comfortable. Marius waved to one of the hosts, calling him by his first name and flashing him a smile that indicated their familiarity. It made sense; I gathered that this was their everyday choice of dining.

"Donatien, good sir! There will be two additional guests with us today, two lovely madams by the names of Éponine and Séraphine. We will need a table for eleven."

The man called Donatien grinned and led us to what was by far the largest table in the room. It was a secluded table towards the back, with ten chairs: five on each side of the table. Marius grabbed an eleventh chair and placed it at the head.

The blond man from earlier was the one who decided to sit at the head of the table. Without knowing this man at all, without knowing his name or the slightest thing about him, I knew that to have him sitting anywhere else but where he was would be strange and out of place. A man like him belonged at the head of a table or in the center of a room, any place where he would be noticed most immediately. He was mysterious and enigmatic while still retaining extroversion and power, so I wanted to talk to him and made it a point to try and sit near him. Unfortunately for me, Marius and Éponine sat across from each other on either side of the blond man. I instead took a seat next to Éponine while Joly sat across from me. Donatien quickly took our orders and went off to prepare the food.

"Well, this is the group," Éponine told me. "Nine of Paris's most talented schoolboys."

"They're all lovely so far," I replied to her. "By the way, would you like me to buy you lunch?"

"No, thanks. I've been saving up for something like this," she said as she stole a glance at Marius across from her. I felt all at once jubilant and saddened: poor Éponine had to save up so much money solely to enjoy lunch with her companions, but the exalted look on her face as she spent time with friends softened her situation.

"Hey, have you met Séraphine?" Marius suddenly prompted the blond man at the head of the table. As Marius nodded in my direction, I sensed my face flushing. I felt vulnerable and wanted to make myself seem presentable, a similar feeling as when I would introduce myself to a new client that I would potentially work for. I have always had a desire to impress, especially people like him who seemed worth impressing.

"My name is Séraphine Beaulieu," I introduced as I reached across Éponine to shake his hand. "A pleasure."

"Enjolras," he stated.

Enjolras! What a beautiful name. It rang out like a bell, a perfect name for someone who carried himself so passionately.

"You have a lovely name, Monsieur."

"Thank you."

"Of course!" I said enthusiastically. The more I observed and spoke to this man, the more preoccupied and lost in his own head he seemed to be. It seemed as if something was troubling him. Not wanting to press but eager to indicate that I was a friend, I gave him a warm and gentle smile. He returned a small smirk and simply resumed staring at the table.

"Is he okay?" I whispered to Éponine. "He seems a little out of it."

"Oh, Enjolras," she responded. "He's always had big dreams and high goals. I'd bet you anything he's going over a plan of some sort in his head right now."

I was not surprised in the slightest.

"So, Séraphine," Joly beckoned from across from me. "How do you know our friend Éponine?"

"We've been friends for a year or so now," I told him. "I live alone, you see, and I frequently take walks around the square trying to gain company and make friends. One day I met Éponine during one of my walks, and I began a conversation with her. We bonded almost instantly, and we have been best friends ever since."

"What a nice story," Joly said genuinely, his eyes dancing. Coming in a bit closer, he whispered, "She really is a great person."

I grinned broadly, nodding in agreement. I may have been dreaming, but I could have sworn I saw his face redden and his pupils dilate when he made that last statement. Did Joly have feelings for Éponine? I would have to tell my friend about what he said and see if she knew anything.

Before I could say another word to Joly, Grantaire came over to me and Éponine. Coming in between our two seats, he put his arms around us and pulled us close to his face. "Nice to have some lovely ladies here with us for a change, isn't it, boys?"

A few of them chuckled while most shook their heads in disapproval. Enjolras huffed and told Grantaire to let go of us and go back to his seat at the other side of the table. Sadly, Grantaire obliged, but not before looking at Enjolras with the same look of admiration and longing that I had given him just minutes prior.

What was it about Enjolras? There was something about him that made every single person respond differently to him than they would to everyone else. I knew that I certainly straightened my posture and became more aware of myself while talking to him. I also had the feeling that he was the only one who could persuade Grantaire to do anything, even something as simple as letting a few girls out of his embrace. Could one person really be that persuasive, that compelling, that forceful? I felt it before I even spoke to him, and there was not a doubt in my mind that everyone else felt his presence too.

"He's pretty amazing, isn't he?" I smiled at Éponine.

"Absolutely," she laughed. "He's got one hell of a personality. Even intimidates _me_ a little bit. And we all know that's a pretty difficult thing to do."

I chortled heartily, agreeing with her. However, as was my tendency when I was joking with Éponine, I laughed a bit too loudly and earned strange looks from the rest of the men in the room, including Enjolras. He had an amused expression on his face. Chuckling, I said I was sorry for the disruption - in a manner that was anything but apologetic. If one is happy, I have always said, why should he be ashamed of whatever is causing his mirth?

"You do enjoy laughing, don't you?" Enjolras suddenly questioned.

My heart skipped a beat as I responded to him. "I do tend to laugh at most things. I find it the best way to live."

"A good philosophy indeed," he replied, "but do you not find it difficult to laugh in some circumstances?"

I was surprised by his sudden probing but nonetheless eager to engage in conversation. "Of course I do, but I find a way to laugh about it anyway. Isn't it preferable to laugh about something that to grovel in sadness about it?"

"So you are able to laugh at everything that has happened to you? Even the bad things?"

"Well, now I am. You have to have a sense of _humor_, of course..."

Enjolras scoffed slightly. "You must not have seen enough difficulties in your life if you can say that so comfortably."

My lips slightly parted in shock and my eyebrows angrily furrowed down. How dare he! How dare he insinuate that I had not endured anything horrible! Who was he to presume that my life was easy solely because of my humor? This Enjolras man knew nothing about me, and I found myself growing impatient and angry with him for his bold assumption. I rose out of my seat and walked over the short distance to his seat at the head of the table. It did not happen often at all, but when I got mad, everyone around me would know it. I was eruptive and fierce. And Enjolras was about to learn that the hard way: by being the recipient of my anger.

"Listen to me," I challenged loudly. "We have known each other for all of twenty minutes, and here you are asserting that I haven't seen anything terrible in my life. You know nothing of my past, nothing of my current situation, nothing but my name. Don't _ever_ say that I haven't seen "enough difficulties," because I can assure you that I've seen some pretty horrible things. Maybe _you_ are the one who needs to look at yourself more closely."

With that final bark of words, I moved over to my seat. I was well aware that the entire table was looking at me with mixed reactions: Combeferre looked impressed with my gall, Joly seemed to find the situation entertaining, and Grantaire appeared to take my burst of anger as a personal affront. Of course, given Enjolras's impact on the man.

"Wow," Éponine said. "Séraphine, I've never seen you so angry before..."

"Well, it's a rarity."

"I guess so..."

All was silent for a moment as my company absorbed the situation. Their impression of me must have changed quickly. For the moment, I did not care, but I knew in a few moments I would regret my outburst. What if they no longer wanted to be friends with me?

It suddenly occurred to me that I had not observed Enjolras's reaction to what had just happened. I glanced at him, crossing my arms over my chest defensively. To my surprise, he did not seem at all offended or bitter. Instead, his eyes were widened and he had a quaint, almost humored expression on his face.

"What?" I said to him, a combination of snark and embarrassment in my voice.

"Ms. Beaulieu, I believe I have struck a nerve with you."

I said nothing.

He continued, "I do apologize for anything I may have implied. I merely made a comment, one I did not expect you to react so harshly to."

"It's okay," I reluctantly grumbled, suddenly feeling guilty that I may have hurt _his_feelings.

"Séraphine, you have passion," he continued.

"Pardon?" I asked, confused.

"I said you have passion. You're fiery." Suddenly his pensive, quizzical look turned into a grin, somewhere between a bemused smirk and a playful smile. "I like you."

My cheeks felt hot at his words. How could he say that? I had not two minutes ago screamed in his face, and here he was telling me he _liked_ me? Were I him, I would probably have a strong distaste for me.

"Again, pardon?"

"I said I like you. You seem surprised at that."

I made a strange noise in my throat, feeling everyone looking back and forth from Enjolras to me as we spoke. "Well, a little bit..."

"Don't be. You stick up for yourself; you don't seem as much the prim-and-proper bourgeois girl I thought you were upon first meeting you. And again, I apologize. Are we good?"

I absorbed his words again. Are we good, he asked? I wanted so badly to say that we were not "good," that he first assumed everything about my entire life based on my outlook on it, then presumed to make me look foolish in front of everyone with his composed reaction. His calm response to the situation was so contrary to my outburst that seemed, in hindsight, magnificently immature. Did he really not find it so? In spite of everything, I had to appreciate his apology and how calmly he had accepted my tangent. Anyone who could do that in such a mild-mannered fashion was worthy of respect and, yes, being liked. My conclusion was that I indeed liked him too. So I told him.

With a big, welcoming smile and a small laugh, I replied, "We're good."


	3. forgive a thoughtless fool

SÉRAPHINE POV

Donatien, our waiter, arrived with our food shortly after the exchange between Enjolras and me. We did not have very much time to eat as the boys had to be heading back for the resumption of classes in about thirty minutes. But I intended to make the most of our meal time by talking to everyone and trying to get to know them a bit better. I started with Enjolras because we were already in the middle of a discussion.

"If I may apologize for offending you," I began.

"We're good, like I said," he offered sincerely.

I gave him a small smile and turned my head to the others at the table. I had met the majority of them: Enjolras, Marius, Combeferre, Courfeyrac, Joly, Grantaire, and Prouvaire. There were only two more students I had not yet met, so I called down shamelessly to the table to ask for their names.

"Hey! You two!" I gestured. "What are your names?"

"My name is Lesgle," one brunette man chuckled. Nodding towards the other one, he said, "That's Bahorel."

Bahorel nodded. "Good to meet you! And impressive job with Enjolras, you being new among us; you don't know how difficult it is to stand up to him."

I smirked as I began eating my food. These really were some of the greatest people I had ever met, and I could tell we had the potential to be great friends. I had never known a feeling of such strong like for so many people, and I had never other than when I first met Éponine wanted so badly to spend time with people and get to know everything about them. Never have I wanted to share so much about myself and learn so much about someone else - or, in this case, many people.

"A toast," I suddenly declared, "to new friends."

"To new friends," everyone agreed, clinking their glasses together and drinking in harmony.

Lunch went by fairly quickly after that. We did not have a lot of time to eat, so we simply enjoyed the meals we had in front of us and resumed talking. I very much enjoyed getting to know the boys, and I looked forward to potentially spending more lunchtimes with them. I considered inviting them over to my house for dinner, but then I decided that would get too crowded and unpleasant. Another day, maybe. I looked forward to that day, whenever it would come.

We all finished our lunch after fun and lighthearted chatter. Éponine and I had to say goodbye to the schoolboys, so we walked outside and hugged (or shook hands with, depending on the stoicism of certain men in question) the boys one by one. We bid our final goodbyes for the day as the boys all headed off into the direction of the schoolhouse.

"Catch you later, Séraphine!" Éponine called, slowly inching her way away from the group and heading towards the opposite direction.

"Hey! Where are you going?" I asked, under the impression that we would spend the day together.

"I'm really sorry; I forgot to tell you, my father needs me today to, er...help him out with something. But I'll see you tomorrow!"

I nodded. "Yeah, see you then." I had to warrant a small chuckle: Éponine believed I was unaware of her illegal activities. She thought she kept it a well-guarded secret from me that she often partook in thefts and conning with her parents and their crones. Despite my disapproval, I could not bring myself to tell the law enforcement because I wanted so badly for Éponine to stay out of trouble. The last thing she needed was trouble with the law, although I would have loved to have seen her parents, the Thénardiers, do just that. The difference between Éponine and her family was that Éponine cared. She cared about other people, she cared about more than making money to spend on frivolities. She was doing the exact same thing as her family, but for some reason it was much easier for me to condone her actions.

Well. I had no one else to spend time with, so I figured I would head back to my house and read one of my books. I began walking towards my residence when I felt a tap on my shoulder.

I jumped up in shock, turning around and preparing to defend myself. In certain streets, my parents told me before they left, one must watch out for beggars and muggers. To my pleasant surprise, it was neither a beggar nor a mugger. It was just Enjolras.

"Séraphine, hey," he said coolly when I turned around. "Have a moment?"

"Sure," I said lightly. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," he said. "Well, actually, I guess that's up to you to decide. I still feel very badly about what I said to you earlier. You were right; I had no right to prejudge you and your life based on what little information I had of you."

I flashed a toothy, comforting smile. "Thank you. But you don't need to apologize again, Enjolras. I already forgave you the first time."

"I'm aware. But I am still disappointed in myself. It is not like me to jump to such conclusions."

"I know it isn't. I can tell. The way you're apologizing right now shows me that it most definitely _isn't_like you. But it's really okay. I mean, I'm sure I _don't_look the type of person to have gone through a lot."

Enjolras cocked a brow. "Sorry?"

"Look at my clothes," I gestured at myself. "It wouldn't have been a completely crazy assumption to think I had a perfect life. I appear wealthy. It was a fair thought."

It was then that I noticed that we had not stayed still during our conversation. We were walking, I observed, towards my home. I had to inwardly giggle: we had walked a decent distance without having realized it.

"Enjolras," I continued, "don't you have to go to classes with the others?"

"My next class isn't for another forty-five minutes. It is college, after all. We're not all in every single class together."

"How do you all know each other?" I asked as we continued our pace.

For the first time, I saw Enjolras let out a laugh. "You know, that's a good question. I think we just kind of got to know each other along the way. I don't remember, but I'm glad it happened."

"Yeah," I smiled, looking into his gleaming eyes. "I am too. I wouldn't have met you all if it hadn't."

"True enough," he drawled lazily.

A silent moment occurred, so I tried to diffuse it for his sake.

"So," I said, perhaps with more sass than I intended, "do you _plan_on walking with me until I reach my house?"

Enjolras looked slightly affronted. Noticing this, I quickly stammered, "Oh, dear! I'm so sorry! That came out wrong, so very wrong...I just meant, was I keeping you from something? I meant that you don't _have_to walk with me if you're busy, and-"

To my relief, he laughed. "Séraphine, relax. You're a pretty wound-up person, aren't you?"

I blushed. "I guess you could say I'm excitable."

"Try to relax, okay?" he said. "It'll probably do you some good."

"Yeah," I sighed as we resumed our walk. "It sure would."

"You sound like it's something you've had trouble with in the past."

"I mean, I suppose," I said. "It's hard for me not to fixate on things. I've been trying to teach myself to let things go that don't matter."

"Like what?" he asked as I widened my eyes at his sudden inquiry.

"Um, nothing," I hurriedly spoke. "Just in general. You know?"

Skeptically, he said, "If you say so."

"But thank you for asking."

"Sure."

Despite his overwhelming ability to intimidate and overwhelm, Enjolras was truly a good person. He had a solid head on his shoulders, he was polite and mature, and most importantly he was easy to talk to. As a decently extroverted person, it bothers me tremendously when people are unable to keep conversations. I liked Enjolras because he responded to my statements and offered statements of his own in response. He was a good conversationalist and a good listener, two facts I had gathered simply from spending an afternoon in his company. I hoped that Enjolras would be in my life more frequently after today.

"So, tomorrow?" I said impulsively. "Would it be all right with you all if Éponine and I joined you tomorrow for lunch again? I just really had a lovely time today."

"Absolutely," he said. "You should come with us to the park afterwards. We like to go for walks there sometimes when none of us have class. It'd be nice to have some fresh faces with us."

"Sure!" I said, giddily. "Actually, wait a moment. I may have to catch up with you all later on in the day. I have work tomorrow."

"What do you work as?"

"I tend to people's houses and children while they're going out for lunch, at work, whenever someone needs me. I usually just spend time with their children but sometimes I have to sew repairs and cook. It's usually not too bad."

"That sounds like it could be nice."

"Especially since I live alone. The company is welc-"

"You live alone?" he asked, eyes bulging. "You don't live with your parents?"

Flushing slightly at my confession, I said, "Oh...well, no. I don't. My parents live in a separate house from me."

"Do they, now? Why?"

"Yeah. It's something I'd rather not talk about at the moment, if that's okay with you. Another day I'll tell you, maybe."

"Of course. I'm very sorry to have pressed."

"Don't be! I would have done the same thing," I assured him. "But tell me more about you."

"Well, I'm Enjolras," he began.

"Wow! Such new, enlightening information!" I teased.

He chuckled. I could see him start to give a playful punch on my shoulder. He stopped himself, likely in fear that he would be crossing a boundary of some sort. Then he resumed, "There isn't a whole lot to say about me. I come from a wealthy background, indeed. But I prefer to surround myself with humbler company."

I suddenly felt personally attacked as I looked down at the flowing red garment I was wearing.

He continued, "But I don't really care about the wealth. I just care about my country, doing the right thing, and maintaining my friendships."

"That's a pretty focused life. What do you do for fun?"

He seemed to scoff. "I like to read and be with my friends, of course, but fun is certainly not one of my top priorities."

"Well, Enjolras, you have to prioritize fun to _some_ extent. If you don't let yourself unwind frequently enough you might crack."

"I just believe that everyone has a purpose in life. Something that keeps them going, if you will. Mine is doing what I believe needs to be done to achieve success and justice. Some people find that their sole goal is to have as much fun as possible, which I do not believe in."

"It's not quite so black and white, though," I offered gently. "You can have fun without it being your only goal."

Enjolras smirked down at me. "As I said, everyone has a purpose. I was not destined to have fun. I was put here to do something great and help people out."

"That doesn't sound very exciting," I frowned.

"Well, what do _you_ consider _your_ purpose in life?" he asked.

"I don't know, to be honest. I'm nineteen years old. I haven't seen very much of the world. I have no idea in the slightest what I want or, as you put it, what 'keeps me going.' To be honest, I'm surprised someone can be so sure of what they're supposed to do in life, especially at our age."

"You raise a fair point, Séraphine. But there is surely _something_ you are passionate about."

I noticed that we were at my front door. "Probably, but I'll have to get back to you at a later date. We're already at my house."

"This is your home? And you have this all to yourself?" he asked.

"I do!" I exclaimed. "It's not all that big, though."

"No, but for someone who's living alone it certainly is."

"I suppose so," I agreed.

"Okay, well. I guess I'll let you go," Enjolras said as he started to turn away. "But show up tomorrow at the park after work, okay? We'll all be there. We'll continue this conversation then."

I smiled. Enjolras truly was a personable, charismatic man. I found myself disappointed that he was leaving and almost asked him if he wanted to stay for awhile. I could not keep him for too long, though, and in the end I decided it best to say goodbye for the day. I was remarkably eager for the next day to come so I could see him and the rest of the boys again.

"We sure will," I responded. "It was - it was really nice to meet you, Enjolras."

He shook my hand and gave me a small grin. "Likewise. So I'll catch you tomorrow?"

"Absolutely."

I closed the door behind me as I gave him one last wave, feeling extremely positive about becoming closer with Enjolras.


	4. she will not be betrayed

SÉRAPHINE POV

I spent the rest of the day reading my book in peace. Despite my deep love for socializing, I sometimes feel the need to reflect upon my day, to introspect and ponder in my own head. It was easy and difficult to concentrate on my reading, all at once: easy because I find it easier to concentrate when I am at peace of mind, as I was as a result of making successful friendships; difficult because part of me was focusing on the next day's meeting with the boys and Éponine. Even so, I had almost gotten through the entire novel by the time I felt sleepy. I placed the book down at a very early hour - six thirty in the evening - and dozed off for the night.

The next morning, I awoke with the sun as I always did. This was fortunate, because that morning I had work whereas the previous morning I was only meeting Éponine in the square. I ensured that I would not be late for the day's duties by washing up immediately after I woke up. Then, I put on a light green frock, similar in style to the red one I had worn the previous day. I put on the same shoes as I had worn the day before and began heading out to work.

Even before I arrived at work, I found myself eager for it to end so I could go to the park with Enjolras, Éponine, and the others. I particularly needed a nice distraction, because the people I would be working for were never my favorite clients. The man of the house (and the father of the child I would be babysitting) gave me an uneasy feeling. His name was Gilles Lavoie, and I did not very much like him. I found his actions and intentions sneaky. Thankfully, I never had to spend much time with him, save for before he left the house and after he returned. There was a silver lining to the situation, though: his five-year-old son, Thierry, was a delight. I wondered how a shady man could have such a sweet and adorable child.

Once I arrived at the Lavoie residence, I left three staccato knocks in succession at the door. No more than a few seconds later, Gilles opened the door, almost as if he had been waiting for me. Of course he was expecting me, but it was almost creepy how quickly he opened the door.

"Miss Beaulieu! How are you, my dear? Come in, come in," he said, grabbing me by my shoulders and leading me into the house. "My Thierry is thrilled to see you."

As if on cue, Thierry came rushing in, hugging me by my legs and yelling my name.

"See, he's enthralled," Gilles remarked, his hands still touching my shoulders. "Well, I have a lunch date, Miss Beaulieu. A dear friend of mine is back in town. I should get going out, now. Goodbye, lovely."

I shuddered slightly at the adjective he had used to describe me. "Um, yes. Goodbye, sir. I'll take good care of Thierry."

"You always do," he winked. "He raves about you, darling. You should know that. You'll be a splendid mother one day."

I cringed again, feeling again a sense of uneasiness that was typical for any encounters I had with Monsieur Lavoie. He had always been a figure of mystery to me, someone I had never felt comfortable around. I only stayed working for him, in fact, because of the money and because of how dearly I liked Thierry.

"Thank you, sir. Have a lovely lunch," I said, trying to subconsciously persuade him to leave. My good fortune was evident as he nodded at me and opened the door, letting himself out of the house and into the world around us.

"Miss Séraphine! Miss Séraphine! I've missed you!" Thierry cheered, letting go of my legs and jumping up and down.

I chuckled, rustling the child's hair and picking him up. Thierry always made me smile and laugh; his childish innocence and utter trust in everything around him was something I missed. As one grows older, he loses the curiosity and purity that comes with being of young age. I dreaded the day Thierry grew up and lost the brilliant light that he radiated: in a country of omnipresent chaos and political corruption, Thierry seemed to me the only real, genuine good in France. He was the one thing I thought of or looked to in times of desperation. He reminded me of my younger brother, Verdun, who lived with my parents up north.

"What would you like to do, Thierry?"

"I want to play a fantasy game!" he cheered, still jumping up and down.

"A fantasy game!" I repeated emphatically. Thierry referred to any game in which we would take on different characters as "fantasy games." "Well, who shall we be today? A prince and his princess? Two animal friends in the woods?"

"I want to be the sun! And you can be the moon!"

I chuckled. "I'm sorry, Thierry; I don't think I quite understand. What do the sun and the moon do?"

"It's a story my dad told me! It's a beautiful story he made up!"

I raised my eyebrows, feeling skeptical about whatever story Gilles Lavoie would come up with. "Let's hear the story, dear."

"Well," Thierry began, "you know how the sun is up in the day and the moon is up in the night? My daddy made up a story where the sun wakes up the moon when the day is over, and that way the sun can go to sleep and the moon can watch over the world. When the night ends, the moon wakes up the sun and the sun watches over the world because it's daytime. And they really love each other but they only see each other twice a day, once when the moon wakes up the sun and once when the sun wakes up the moon. And they spend all day waiting for those two times to happen. And it's a really beautiful love story!"

I grinned, amazed at this child's intelligence. He had to be extremely bright to be able to comprehend such a deep story, and even brighter to be able to see the beauty in it. I found myself surprised, however, at Gilles's thoughtfulness. I never would have imagined him to be such a romantic storyteller. It contradicted with my experiences and notions of the man.

"That sounds beautiful, little Thierry. I guess now I'll go to sleep, then? And you, the big beautiful yellow sun, can wake me up!"

"Yeah! I wanna wake you up!"

"Okay," I agreed, lying on the couch in the Lavoie family living room. "Goodnight, dear sun!"

"Goodnight, moon!"

With that, I closed my eyes. I pondered about how I may have misjudged Gilles Lavoie; a father who told such adorable and wondrous stories about love to his son could not have been that bad. Possibly his touchiness and over-friendliness were just that: friendliness. I initially thought he was overly flirtatious, in his own way. But my instincts could have been wrong. He certainly raised a wonderful son, even if only that.

"Oh, great moon!" Thierry called after a few moments of silence. "It is nighttime! You must awake, and I will take your place sleeping. Have fun watching over the world!"

I laughed, playing with Thierry's hair. "Thank you so much for waking me up, my beautiful sun! Have a lovely slumber, dear."

"Thank you!" he cheered. "Enjoy your shift."

I giggled loudly. He must have heard the term "shift" from his father, possibly referring to me and the shifts I would take working for him. Either way, the way he spoke and the words he used were charming. As he did, I waited a few minutes before I called for him to wake up. Turning around to ask him to "begin his shift," I noticed that he seemed to genuinely be sleeping.

"Thierry?" I asked, just to check.

There was no response. I saw his chest move up and down, evenly with the smooth drawls of his breaths. He was such a doll, I thought. I placed a gentle kiss on his forehead and placed a nearby blanket over his tiny body. I hoped one day to have a son exactly like Thierry: playful, endearing, and intelligent.

I peered at the clock: it would still be another hour and a half or so before Gilles would arrive back from his lunch. _What would I do with the extra time now that Thierry was asleep?_ I thought to myself. There were books all about the house, including a few that I had wanted but never had the chance to purchase. I decided that I would begin reading it on the couch next to Thierry, and then I would ask Gilles if I could borrow the book. _The Divine Comedy_, the work was called, by a man named Dante Alighieri. Having never read it before, I ravenously dove into the book like a small bird diving into the crumbs of a cake on the concrete.

The book had captured my attention and left me so immersed that I jumped in shock when I saw Gilles come into the house through the front door where he had left.

"Monsieur Lavoie!" I greeted, gently placing the book down on the couch. "How was your lunch, sir?"

"Wonderful, dear Séraphine; thank you for asking. How is my Thierry?"

"Asleep like, well, a baby," I answered. "We played an adorable game in which we portrayed the sun and the moon. It was based on a gorgeous story you have apparently told him."

"Oh, yes," Gilles grinned. "The story of the sun and the moon, waking each other up to watch over their earth. One of my better stories, I like to think."

"It was delightful," I commented, walking away from him momentarily in order to pick up the book. "Pardon, but do you very much mind if I borrow _The Divine Comedy_? I was reading it and I'm really enjo-"

"Excuse me?" Gilles suddenly snapped, bitterness evident in his tone. "Do you mean to tell me that you were reading one of my books?"

I instantly felt that there was something very wrong with the situation. He did not seem pleased, and I wondered what I could have possibly done to anger him. "I'm sorry, sir; I was only trying to entertain myself while your son was sleeping-"

"You are _never_ to so much as _look_ at my bookshelf, Miss Beaulieu. Are we perfectly clear?"

There was no way for me to hide how insulted I had felt. "Monsieur Lavoie, I would like to know why I may not read the books from your shelves. I am not harming anyone by doing so."

The man's face turned a shade of bright red and I noticed a vein in his muscle begin to twitch. "Women such as yourself, Miss Beaulieu, are not suited for reading." His voice seemed more and more aggravated as he continued. "Reading and other intellectual pursuits are left to the man, as I'm sure you know. Or do you just choose to ignore the established conventions? You are suited for few things: housework, caring for children, and delivering sexual pleasure to men."

"What did you just say to me?" I challenged, heat rising into my cheeks. "I am not an object for a man to play with. Are you really so ignorant as to belie-"

Gilles Lavoie silenced me with a swift slap to the face.

"You," he spoke venomously, "may not call me ignorant. You have no right to say that, you little bitch. Sluts like you need to be put in your place."

I felt very uncomfortable at the moment, violated and uneasy. Before I or he could say another word, I darted out of the house, caressing my cheek and huffing so as to prevent myself from screaming.

"Be here again in three days to watch Thierry again," he called ferociously.

I could not believe he had the gall to keep talking to me. I certainly did not have the gall to turn around and look him in the eye again after he had just insulted me and physically hit me! Once again grabbing my cheek where he had stricken me, I quickened my pace towards the park with the others and contemplated my change in opinion. How foolish was I! To think that all of Gilles's flirtations, all the times I had felt unsettled around him, could be condoned solely because of a sweet story he had told his son. I mentally berated myself for trying to see the good in him when, in reality, very little actually existed.

Quickly, I reached the park where the others were. I was definitely in a rush to get there so I could gain some laughs and enjoyment after a rough afternoon.

Éponine was the first to notice my arrival. "Séraphine!" she cheered, racing over and hugging me. "Great to see you!"

"And you!" I smiled, hugging her back. After I broke free from her, I walked over to where the guys were and greeted them as well.

"How was your work today?" Lesgle asked. "Enjolras told us you'd be coming late because of your job."

"Oh," I said, trying to stall in order to avoid talking about my bad day. "It was...it was good! Thanks for asking."

"What do you do, anyway?" Bahorel asked me.

"I babysit, for the most part. Today I babysat a lovely little boy named Thierry Lavoie. He's an angel."

"Great!"

Unfortunately, I could not avoid conversation about the incident with Gilles for a very long time. I had not been at the park five minutes when Enjolras approached me and blatantly eyed the red slap mark on my face. He was so observant, so good at picking up the little details the others would miss. I should have known someone would ask me about the mark! Why did I not take measures to cover it up?

"Séraphine, why do you have a slap mark on your cheek?" Enjolras asked me.

"Oh! Um, it's nothing. Really," I spoke hurriedly, trying to assure him.

"Hey, yeah! She does have a slap mark on her face!" Prouvaire commented. I sighed, knowing my mark would be the topic of conversation within seconds.

"You can tell us," Enjolras said earnestly, a hint of protectiveness seeping in his tone. "Did someone hurt you?"

I knew I had no choice but to tell them what had happened.

"Yeah, actually. It was the father of the child I babysat."

"Who the hell does he think he is, slapping a girl?!" Grantaire bellowed.

"It was a disagreement. I called him ignorant because he told me I shouldn't be reading books, and then he hit me."

"Why don't you file charges? You know that Inspector Javert guy will have him tried," Joly offered.

"I'm not sure what to do. It's not a big deal," I tried to shrug it off and make it so they would not worry about me.

"Come here," Enjolras suddenly said to me, pulling me aside. "Séraphine, why are you so calm about this?"

"I just don't think it's that important. I'll figure out a way to handle it; I always do."

"You always do? What does that mean?"

"Nothing, nothing." I felt as if I had said too much. "The next time I go to babysit his son, I'll figure something out on the spot. I usually work best on improvisation."

"You're going back? Why would you do that?" Enjolras asked me, the rest of the group gabbing loudly and enjoying the company of the others.

"Thierry is an absolute darling, plus it's always nice to have some extra money."

"You shouldn't go back there," he repeated.

"I don't want to let Monsieur Lavoie win," I responded, half to myself.

I expected Enjolras to respond with a quick retort as to why I should not place myself in that position again. I waited for him to bite back and tell me I should not risk myself again. But he did not, which surprised me. What surprised me even more, however, was the sly smirk I saw growing on his face.

"When's the next time you have to go to this Lavoie residence?" he asked, maintaining that sneaky grin.

"Friday at noon," I replied. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I'm gonna come with you," he grinned. "I'll skip lunch and-"

"Don't skip lunch, Enjolras. You don't have to do that."

"Stop it. If you're free afterwards, we can eat then. But I want to come with you to watch this kid, if that's okay."

"I'm sure Thierry would love to have the company, but Monsieur Lavoie probably wouldn't let you-"

"He doesn't have to let me in," Enjolras read my mind, seeming more and more serious about coming with me on Friday. "I'll come knock on the door after he leaves the house. You can let me in."

"Enjolras, why do you want to come so badly?" I finally asked.

"Because I want to help you teach this guy a lesson," he responded. "And also because it sounds like it might be fun. Someone once told me I should try to have more fun."


End file.
